


Moments In Time

by Von_Karma



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Gen, Self-Esteem Issues, really just a shit ton of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-24 12:17:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17100434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Von_Karma/pseuds/Von_Karma
Summary: A collection of Persona Five oneshots (mostly Akechi centric).





	1. Analysis

Ryuji was one of the easiest Phantom Thieves to understand, Akechi thought, which was helpful. Shido had asked him to gather any and all information on the known conspirators and having their personalities be so out there made his job a lot easier. Blunt, assertive, inelegant, vulgar… When he wasn’t bashing shadows over the head violently with a metal pipe or shooting them down with a shotgun, he was rambling on aimlessly to anyone who would listen (or pretend to but that was neither here nor there). He found himself almost admiring how simple he was, fondly remembering his own carefree days.

Akechi never let himself carry on that train of thought for he knew indulging in remembering his childhood would only lead to regret (and guilt and sadness). It was better if he didn’t think of the Phantom Thieves as people, only as chess pieces in someone else’s game. Ryuji was a pawn and nothing more. Every action or reaction was so hopelessly predictable that he almost felt sorry for him but then again Ryuji had so many things he had always longed for… Friends for example, people who cared about him, people who liked him for who he actually was and not who he pretended to be.

Ryuji never tried to hide his disdain for Akechi but it was the little ways he showed it that hurt the most. The way he excluded him from the group… the way he never followed any of his orders… and he could go on. The blond was just a delinquent and Akechi was an ace detective, a celebrity, an idol. He shouldn’t care what Ryuji thought of him. It doesn’t matter, he’s enough.

But he does care and he’s never enough...

Shido was serious about him getting to know everything about them it seemed. He hadn’t called him in on a job for over two weeks which he didn’t mind, in fact, he was almost grateful. It wasn’t like he enjoyed killing; it was messy and exhausting. Truly not work suited for the charming high school detective. Yes, he appreciated the much needed break, but that only gave him more time to overthink. Maybe it wasn’t the fact Ryuji disliked him that bothered him. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t know why he did.

Akechi was almost positive that he hadn’t given him any reason to. He had made sure to show all of them his kind, slightly ditzy genius persona. Ryuji would have a reason to hate him if he knew who he really was but he didn’t. Of course Akechi was used to being hated. Being so visible meant that getting hate was unavoidable. He had received all sorts of colorful threats of murder and mutilation. There were comments upon comments about everything they would do to him if they ever got the chance. One person had actually pulled a knife on him once but was promptly tackled by security before he got the chance to do anything. Something about him seemed to bring out the worst in some people.

Yet even that made sense to him to an extent. He was a celebrity and represented something unattainable to them. They saw him as perfect with no problems of his own. They knew they could never be like him so the next best thing was to destroy the object they projected their insecurities on. Whether that be murder, rape, torture, whatever, they just wanted to dismantle him in any way they could. But Ryuji’s hatred wasn’t like that. He didn’t want to hurt Akechi, he was just rude and petty at times.

It was frivolous and mundane (fitting for him) and he couldn’t understand it. The more he tried to, the more he realized that if he couldn’t wrap his head around someone as simple as Ryuji then he couldn’t understand any of them. They weren’t like him, they weren’t cold and distant, resigned and cynical. They were everything he wasn’t: positive, full of life, and…

happy.

In so many ways, they were similar. They had all awakened to the same power and they were all seeking retribution in some way or another. Yet somehow Akechi felt so far from them.


	2. Brush Strokes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for abuse this chapter. Stay safe, lovelies.

Strange people had been coming to the house for as long as Yusuke could remember. They varied in age and gender but they always left quietly with a painting obscured by a black bag. Sometimes Madarame’s guests would ask about Yusuke to which he would wave an uninterested hand in his direction along with a dismissive comment about “not minding him”. It wasn’t a secret that he took in pupils but he never talked about them. 

There were other pupils besides Yusuke of course. Many had come and gone over the years. They also never stayed for very long and almost all of them seemed to avoid Yusuke like he was the plague. He wasn’t sure how many there been, in fact, he hardly remembered any their names or faces or anything about them really. Everything about them seemed to muddle together after a while.

Nakanohara was one of the ones he would always remember. He had been one of the older pupils, coming to Madarame in his late teens and leaving two years later. Somewhere over his two year stay, he grew out of a naive kid who was easily manipulated into an adult who didn’t take so kindly to Madarame’s controlling nature. Yusuke would never forget the day he left and never came back.

—-

“Are you leaving?” Yusuke asked, standing behind the railing on the stairs. 

Nakanohara stood in the doorway with a large suitcase at his side. He sighed and turned around to face the younger boy. “Yeah.”

Yusuke didn’t have to ask why he was leaving for he already knew. He nodded wordlessly.

“You should leave too,” he said, his bluntness even shocking Yusuke, “Surely you can’t really enjoy living here, right?”

“I can’t leave...” he muttered quietly, hoping Nakanohara wouldn’t press him for further details.

He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“I owe everything to Madarame. He took me under his wing and sculpted me into the person I am today... I can’t leave yet, I haven’t repaid him. If I could, I would.”

“I see...” the man turned back to the door, “if that’s your answer then...”

Yusuke watched as he walked out of the house and down the street until he turned a corner and disappeared from view. He hadn’t seen him since but he hoped he was doing alright on his own.

—-

The plagiarism had been going on for almost as long as Yusuke had been living there. At the tender age of eight, Madarame had begged for his ideas and he gave them to him willingly. Soon enough his ideas ran out but sensei couldn’t accept that. He locked him in a spare storage room with nothing but a notebook and pencils for an entire night. There were no lights, no heating, nothing but darkness. 

The sounds from the bushes scraping outside or the wind howling were too much for his young mind. Using the pencil as an extension of himself, he wrote all of the sounds and shapes he was seeing in the darkness down onto the paper. He didn’t get any sleep that night.

Madarame came back the next morning to find a sobbing mess and a notebook filled to the brim with incoherent scribbles and words. Yusuke ran up to him as soon as the door opened, hugging him tightly and apologizing for everything. From then on, he made sure to never get caught again without any ideas for sensei to turn into a new painting lest he be put in that god awful room once more.

The worst part is Yusuke knows he should hate Madarame. He should hate him for all the horrible abuse and neglect he’s put him through but he doesn’t. He has nothing but respect and admiration for the man he considers his father. So he dissociates all of the horrible things he’s done. It’s twisted, he knows this, but can’t help it.


	3. The Peculiarities Of Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yusuke and Akechi bond over a painting commission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't intend for this to be shippy but it kinda turned out that way haha.

“Ah, I hope you don’t mind me coming over so early. I know my request was very sudden,” Akechi said, entering Yusuke’s dorm room, “I didn’t know security would be so tight here.”

Yusuke didn’t even spare a glance at the young detective, instead opting to prepare his art supplies. “I don’t mind. What was your vision for this piece?”

Akechi hesitated before reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out an old photograph which Yusuke could see was very worn out. He stared at it for a moment with what looked like sadness before handing it over gingerly. “I was hoping that you could recreate this as a portrait. It’s for a uh… memorial of sorts.”

Yusuke studied the picture intensely for a minute. Depicted was a young woman who looked to be in her mid twenties with long brown hair. He could tell from the dark circles under her eyes that she hadn’t been getting enough sleep. She reminded him very much of his own mother. 

“Does that sound like something you would be interested in doing?” Akechi asked, any and all traces of melancholy erased from his expression, “I would pay you for it, of course. Just name your price.”

Yusuke nodded and set the picture down gently on his easel. “You may stay if you want but I won’t be able to have it done by today. I doubt I’ll make for very good company.”

Akechi gave his signature forced smile and nodded, pulling up a chair from the corner. “It’s rare that I get a day off like this so I think I’ll accompany you for the day. It’s rather nice and peaceful here, wouldn’t you agree?”

To his surprise, Akechi didn’t just give up on a conversation once he realized Yusuke was too engrossed in his work to give very much of a reply. At most he would nod or make a vague sound of acknowledgment. Even more shocking was that this seemed to encourage the boy to talk more as if filling in both roles of the conversation. So he talked on endlessly about whatever he could think of whether that be his love of cycling or the local food hotspots around the city.

Work was a particular topic of interest and a subject Yusuke found himself listening to more keenly. Akechi’s specialty was mostly white-collar crime but he also occasionally helped with other investigations that were short-staffed. He talked about how exciting detective work could be but but didn’t shy away from the negative aspects too. Like all of the paperwork he had to fill out especially in the beginning of his career. Or how no matter how much he proved himself, all of the adults saw him as a spectacle for amusement rather than a coworker. Or even how some cases ended without justice being served and left everyone involved feeling unsatisfied. 

As Yusuke listened to him ramble on, he wondered if they ever would have suspected Akechi if the circumstances leading up to him joining the phantom thieves had been different. He just seemed so earnest and kind that it was hard to imagine it was all just a front. There was no reason to suspect him besides Morgana remembering something the others had already long since forgotten.  
About two and a half hours after they had started, Akechi’s phone began to ring. Yusuke could barely make out what the conversation was about but the mystery person on the other line did not sound pleased. He was sure he saw Akechi jump slightly a few times much like Yusuke had done when Madarame had scolded him.

After a minute or two, Akechi hung up and grabbed his bag. “That was my employer…” he said, not bothering to hide the slight unhappiness in his voice, “I’m being called away on an assignment so I must be going.”

“Alright,” Yusuke said, taking the opportunity to look at how the piece was coming so far. He had gotten the outline done but he felt as though something was missing. “Before you leave, I want to ask you something.”

Akechi was almost out the door but stopped and looked back to the artist. “Go for it.”

“You said this was for a memorial, right? So this woman must hold a special place in your heart. Someone related to one of your old cases? A relative perhaps?”

“Oh…” the detective trailed off, wondering whether or not to answer, “Yeah… You could say that. She’s my mother, she died when I was really young.”

The two shared a solemn look before Akechi muttered a quick goodbye and left. Alone now, Yusuke looked back at the unfinished portrait. He picked up his pencil and changed one final thing in the outline.

\---

Akechi came back a few days later when the painting was done and strangely enough Yusuke was looking forward to seeing him again. He knew what Akechi was planning to do to all of them but he found himself curious about this soft spoken detective. In his free time, he had looked up Akechi online to find that he had a very dedicated (and nosy) fanbase. It didn’t take long for him to find out more about his mother’s death. It was hard for Yusuke not to see himself a little in Akechi. What if he had turned out like that? Angry and bitter at the world?

The knock at the door interrupted Yusuke’s thoughts and he muttered a “come in” quietly. 

“Good afternoon,” Akechi said as he opened the door, carrying a white bag in his hand, “I stopped by one of my favorite food places on the way here and thought you might be hungry so I brought you some too.”

Yusuke took out the takeout container and opened it to reveal a rice bowl with beef, vegetables, and egg among other things. Without wasting another second, he begam scarfing down the food faster than he really should have. Once again he had bought art supplies instead of groceries. 

Once he was finished, he tossed the empty container into the trash can and directed his attention back to Akechi who looked at him with a bemused expression.

“I guess I should bring you food more often, huh?”

Disregarding his comment, Yusuke pulled a white sheet off of the easel, revealing the finished portrait. Akechi’s eyes widened and he stared at it for a few long, tense moments.

“It’s perfect… Thank you,” he said with a smile but this smile wasn’t forced. Instead the corners of his mouth were relaxed and easy, not having to fake it.

Yusuke had changed a few things from the original and he wasn’t quite sure how he might react but it seemed to be going well. Mainly he just got rid of the bags under her eyes and her sad half frown. Akechi would finally have a happier picture of his mom to remember her by. As he was thinking about that, Akechi did the last thing Yusuke ever would’ve expected. He hugged him.

“Ah sorry about that,” Akechi said immediately pulling away with an awkward cough.

Yusuke stared at the detective, surprised by the sudden outburst. “You were overcome by emotion when you saw the painting just like I was when I first saw Sayuri.”

“Sayuri?” Akechi questioned, “Madarame’s maiden work?”

Yusuke shook his head. “You’ve probably heard all about Madarame’s… crimes by now. Sayuri was my mother’s self portrait that he passed off as his own original work.”

“I see.. It’s a very beautiful painting; I can see why it would have such an effect on you. Anyway, about payment. Does forty thousand yen sound like a fair price?”

Yusuke sputtered in disbelief. “F-forty thousand yen?” 

“Ah, is something wrong? Is that too low? I’ve never commissioned someone before so I’m not really sure how much is appropriate for such a piece.”

After a brief conversation about payment, Akechi transferred the money and left with the painting. Yusuke almost wished that he would stay a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forty thousand yen = 362.36 US dollars


End file.
